I Am My Step Daddy's Obsession

~Niklaus

"Please gently…"

The escort’s raw, choked sob echoed through my room, her spine arching violently off the silk sheets as I drove into her.

My calloused hands dug brutally into the soft flesh of her hips, pinning her into the mattress, crushing her down until her thighs shook uncontrollably beneath my weight.

I didn't care about her tears, or her pathetic attempts to claw her way across the bed to escape me.

I had simply shoved her back onto the mattress, forced her legs apart, and rammed myself straight into her dry, tight pussy. I hate foreplay, I just wanted the thrust and release.

I didn't want intimacy. I wanted a violent, mindless release to burn off the dark frustration that had been clawing at my ribs.

She was begging for mercy, her voice breaking on raspy, desperate whimpers as I set a punishing, relentless pace.

Every brutal thrust slammed her body back against the headboard, the bed frame groaning under the force of it.

I pulled back until I was almost completely out, letting her catch a ragged, sobbing breath, before slamming back into her with everything I had.

She let out a sharp, shattered cry, her fingers weakly tugging at my wrists, trying in vain to pry my iron grip off her hips. "Easyyy…."

I ignored her, my jaw clamped shut as I lifted her lower body slightly to hit her deeper, forcing another breathless scream from her throat. My blood roared in my ears, my core tightening as the intense pressure at the base of my spine reached its absolute breaking point.

With a low, guttural growl that ripped from my chest, I slammed into her one last time, burying myself to the absolute root.

My abdominal muscles locked tight as I snapped, pumping hard, thick streams of cum deep inside her trembling body.

I held her pinned beneath me for a few heavy, silent seconds, my heart hammering against her slick collarbone while my cock twitched, emptying every last drop before I pulled out and left her collapsed on the bed.

On the rug, she lay breathless, panting as if she just finished running away from death. I wrapped a towel around my waist.

I reached into my trousers resting on the back of the chair, pulled out a thick roll of hundred-dollar bills, and tossed the stack onto the floor in front of her face.

She didn't say a word. She knew the rules. She scrambled onto her hands and knees, grabbing the cash and her crumpled dress before dragging herself toward the private exit as fast as her bruised legs would carry her.

So many sluts were halo to be brought here because the pay was huge, but they never came back. They come in smiling and crawl out in tears, that's the consequences of trying to satisfy me. I don't get enough that quick.

I sat back down on the edge of the bed, completely bare from the waist up.

With a flick of my silver lighter, I sparked the tip of a hand-rolled Cuban tobacco leaf, drawing the harsh, bitter smoke deep into my lungs.

The smoke burned down my throat, but it didn't touch the dark, restless frustration that had been clawing at my ribs for seven fucking years.

Seven years since Davina wrote that pathetic note and vanished into thin air. Seven years since I took a look at a heartbroken thirteen-year-old girl, felt something terrifyingly possessive twist in my gut, and realized I had to get her out of my sight before I lost my mind.

I hadn't seen her face in person since the day I packed her onto that private jet to the academy in Switzerland.

Davina, my ex-wife left her daughter with me and ran off without explaining anything except telling me to take care of her. I was so in love with her that I was angry, I destroyed a lot of things and killed a lot of people. I had to get her daughter out of my sight to prevent myself from taking the anger out on her too.

My black smartphone on the marble table vibrated, the sharp buzz breaking the silence.

I picked it up, pressing it to my ear as I took another slow drag of my cigar.

"Mr. Montgomery," Marcus’s voice came through, straining against the heavy noise of pouring rain and idling engines. "She did it again, sir. She slipped past the perimeter guards during the shift change at the estate. She’s on the run."

I held the smoke in my lungs for three agonizing seconds before blowing a thin, grey cloud toward the ceiling.

My eyes narrowed, all traces of the post-sex high vanishing instantly.

"Again?" My voice was a low, velvet rasp, heavy with iron.

"We're tracking her signal heading toward the highway, but she's moving fast…"

"Catch her," I cut him off, my voice dropping into an octave that left no room for error. "And this time, put her on flight first thing tomorrow and bring her to my house."

I stood up, walking toward the floor-to-ceiling glass window overlooking the city.

The reflection of my broad chest and shadowed jaw stared back at me in the glass, but all I could picture was how to handle this girl. This was probably her 30th attempt of running away from the best place she could be safe.

"She’s twenty-one now," I murmured, my grip tightening on the phone until the glass casing nearly cracked. "I think she's old enough to take over her father's company... and old enough to take her place."

I paused, watching the raindrops streak down the window.

"Make sure she doesn't get a scratch on her, Marcus," I commanded softly. "Catch her. It’s time she came home to face reality.”

I tossed the towel aside and pulled on a dark tailored suit.

As I adjusted my cufflinks, a heavy knock sounded at the bedroom door.

Julian stepped inside, his expression rigid and professional. "Sir, the recruiters just brought in the new batch. Four men who claim they’re ready to lay down their lives for the cause."

"Is that so?" I replied smoothly, opening the top drawer of my desk. I reached inside and pulled out two heavy, black semi-automatic pistols.

I checked the frames, slipped them into my jacket pockets, and looked at Julian. "Let's see what they're actually made of."

I followed him down to the underground holding bay, where the damp concrete air bit cold against my skin. Four men were lined up against the reinforced wall, guarded by three of my heavily armed men.

Julian stepped forward. "The two on the left are old friends, sir. Same for the two on the right."

I walked up to them, my boots echoing off the concrete, and let my gaze slide over all four faces. "You claim you're willing to do anything for this organization. Anything?"

All four nodded eagerly, desperate to prove their loyalty. "Anything, sir."

A slow, dark smile spread across my face. I pulled both handguns from my jacket pockets and tossed them onto the hard floor, right between the two pairs, one gun landing in front of each set of friends.

"Here’s your first test," I said, my voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper.

"Whoever grabs the gun first and kills his friend is qualified to work for me. If you fail to kill, you die."

For a second, none of them moved.

Then, the first set of friends lunged toward the concrete. They threw themselves onto the floor, throwing wild punches, clawing at each other's faces, and scrambling violently over the metal frame.

On the other side, the second pair stood completely frozen, staring at each other in absolute terror, neither making a single move toward the weapon at their feet.

With a final, desperate gasp, one of the men in the first pair managed to pin his friend down.

He grabbed the barrel, yanked the gun up, pressed it directly against his friend's chest, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

The hammer fell on an empty chamber. The man blinked in shock, staring down at the unloaded weapon, then up at me in horror.

My smile widened. "Congratulations. Both of you passed."

I turned my head toward the second set of friends, who were still standing frozen, trembling in fear. My expression instantly went cold.

"And as for the two of you..." I reached behind my waist, drew my personal loaded sidearm, and aimed it directly at them. "If you aren't even willing to kill your own friend to cling to life, you can't handle what we do here."

BANG. BANG.

Two quick shots echoed deafeningly off the concrete walls. Both men crumpled to the floor, dead before they hit the ground.

I wiped a tiny drop of blood off the barrel, holstered my weapon, and faced the two surviving friends, who were still hyperventilating on the floor next to their lifeless bodies.

"Congratulations," I said quietly, adjusting my tie. "Welcome to the family.”